Bobby Singer's Daycare
by tazia101
Summary: Bobby never meant to get a reputation as a babysitter. But after John Winchester started dropping off his sons to go on 'hunting trips,' news got out in the Hunter community... and soon, into the supernatural ones as well. Soon, Bobby has a house full of kids, running around and causing trouble, and all he can do is sit back and watch the chaos unfold.
1. How It Began

_**Bobby Singer's Daycare**_

**Chapter 1: How It Began**

It was a bright, sunny day in May, 1984, when Bobby Singer's life changed forever.

Well, it didn't exactly change _on that day_, but it was the beginning of a series of changes that would eventually culminate in a very different life than he was currently living.

Bobby had known John Winchester before either of them was a hunter. Back when both their wives were alive, and they were blissfully ignorant of the world of the supernatural and twisted. They had met at a mechanics conference, sort of hit it off, and they had been trading car secrets and clients ever since.

After Karen's death, Bobby had abandoned both his auto service and his old acquaintances to learn the skills of a Hunter, but kept his house functional as a home base. It was nice to have somewhere to go, sometimes, even if it was somewhere that held far too many memories and probably was worse than having no home, since it did all sorts of horrible things to your mind and really only offered you a place to drink.

May. 1984. Right.

It so happened to be Bobby's day off, which is to say that he hadn't had a case in almost a full week, and it was too early in the day to be drinking.

That was when there was a knock on the door.

Bobby got up, grabbed a shotgun, and went to answer it cautiously. The face that greeted him at the door was wholly unexpected, and before he opened it all the way, Bobby hurriedly shoved the shotgun under a pile of papers.

"John!" he said, opening the door.

He remembered John Winchester as a bright, determined person. Young and in love and wanting to make a future for his family.

It was a very different man who pushed past him into the living room, eyes flitting around the room, taking in the dust, the dirt, the carelessness of a man who lived alone without really caring.

"I need your help," were the first words out of John's mouth.

"Okay," Bobby said, taken aback, but shocked enough by what was happening to go along for now. "What is it?"

"Mary's dead. It's been a couple of months now. I have… something I need to do. And I need to drop the kids off somewhere. Just for a week. Do you remember my sons? Well, Sam wasn't born yet, but you remember Dean, I'm sure I talked about Dean. I couldn't think of anyone else, and I know that you don't have any kids, but I was just-" John broke off, leaning against a wall. "It's been hard."

"It's okay," Bobby said again. He understood that well enough, the overwhelming sense of a world _without_. It was bad enough to adjust by yourself, but he couldn't imagine doing it with two kids to look after. "I'll do it." The words came out by themselves, bourn by understanding and empathy.

John's head snapped up. "You will? Really?"

"Karen died. A couple years ago," he offered, an explanation in six words. "Yes, I'll take care of your kids for a week. I can't promise they'll enjoy it much, but I'll do my best."

"Thank you." Sincerity filled John's voice. "Dean can help you out. He's grown up a lot." A pause. "Especially in the last little while."

"You're doing the best we can, just like all of us," Bobby said, hearing the regret in the other man's voice.

"Yes."

The pause was longer this time.

"They're both in the car," John said. "I'll bring them in and introduce you." Bobby nodded, and the screen door slammed shut.

"_Balls_!" Bobby exclaimed, as quietly as he could, and immediately started gathering up all the weapons he could, shoving them into drawers and onto high shelves, where he figured kids wouldn't be able to get them. "What have you gotten yourself into _now_?" he scolded himself as he worked. "Kids! You can't take care of two kids."

The sound of a young voice drifted up and through the screen door, raised in a complaint. Bobby immediately straightened up, hoped that no more weapons were visible, and went to the door.

"But I just want to go _home_," the boy complained. "I want my bed! And my toys! And mom!"

"You're staying with Bobby for a few days," John snapped, and pulled on the little boy's arm, dragging him up the stairs. "And that's the end of it." Bobby opened the screen door, suddenly very happy that it made a loud squealing sound, announcing his presence. John looked up and loosened his grip on the boy's wrist, even offered Bobby a strained smile.

"This is Bobby," he said to the boy who was standing slightly behind him. "Bobby, this is Dean."

"Hello," Bobby said, trying to sound approachable. Dean stared at him with huge green eyes.

"This is my youngest son, Sam," John continued, when Dean didn't say anything back. Sam was nestled in his arms, with huge hazel eyes that flickered around at the scenery curiously.

"Hello," Bobby said again.

"Gada," Sam responded, reaching up one little hand in what could have been a wave. Bobby smiled slightly.

"Well, I should be back in a few days," John said, and let go of Dean's wrist to detach Sam from his shoulder and hold him out to Bobby, who took him gingerly. "Dean has my cell number memorized if you need anything, although you might have to leave a message, and I'm sure that they'll both behave very well."

Bobby didn't miss the look that was given to Dean, nor the little boy's shoulders slumping forwards.

"I'm sure too," Bobby said amiably, and looked to Dean encouragingly. "Maybe I'll put Dean to work on one of the cars."

Dean's eyes widened, and he looked to his father, hopefully.

"That should be fine," John said. "As long as you make sure he's not working on something you're intending to sell."

"Not at first," Bobby responded, feeling somewhat resentful on behalf of John's son. "Once he's trained up, though…" He looked at Dean again, this time with a smile. "I could use an assistant in the yard."

"Good luck," John shrugged. "I'll see you in a couple days. Chin up, Dean!"

And then he was gone.

Bobby shot a glance at the kid who was now in his charge. He was looking after his father as the black car pulled away down the driveway.

"Okay," Bobby said, and two pairs of eyes landed on him. "I guess I'm going to have to find you guys somewhere to sleep."

Ooooo0000ooooO

John Winchester did not return for two and a half weeks. Within that time, Bobby had figured out what foods a baby could and could not eat, how to change a diaper (something he could have happily spent his life not knowing), and the number of times that a six year old boy could tell you the same joke without losing his enthusiasm (too damn many).

The important thing was that John _did_ return, and returned Dean's hug with a muttered "Missed you too."

Bobby let him stay the night, and Dean didn't let go of his father's wrist once, and kept up a steady stream of chatter about what he had learned, who he had met, the various meals he had helped prepare, the motorcycle he was working on with Bobby, and the bedroom that he had gotten to 'redecorate' (draw all over).

John seemed relatively pleased with all the news, and after the kids were settled down to bed, John and Bobby sat down and shared a drink.

"You were longer than you'd expected," Bobby stated.

"There were some complications," John said vaguely.

"So what exactly is it that you were doing?" Bobby asked. "Normally I wouldn't be so nosy, but I think that you probably owe me an explanation."

"You wouldn't believe me," John said with a smile-grimace, and took a drink of his beer. "Or you'd call me crazy." Bobby squinted at the other man. His words were too familiar to dismiss; in the months that he had travelled with Rufus, pretending to be anyone from FBI to new neighbours, he had heard those same phrases over and over from almost every family touched by the supernatural.

"You might be surprised what I believe nowadays," Bobby said, and now it was John's turn to give him a suspicious look.

"I was on a hunting trip," John answered.

"Must have been a damn interesting trip to dump your kids with a near-stranger," Bobby said, leaning back on the couch.

"Firstly, I happen to count you as a friend. And second, it wasn't exactly a recreational trip."

"So you're a Hunter for a living?" It was hard to verbally communicate the capital H, but Bobby managed well enough for John to catch his meaning.

"You've done some hunting yourself, haven't you?" he asked, leaning forwards, dark hazel eyes intent upon Bobby's face.

"In the past years, yes. I've been hunting a lot. I've got a buddy who comes with me, named Rufus."

"Rufus _Turner_?"

"Yes!" Bobby kept his voice down, mindful of the kids sleeping upstairs, but both of them were grinning at each other.

"Do you know Ellen Harvelle?"

"From the Roadhouse? Yeah, 'course."

"You know, Bobby? I think that you're the best person I could have asked to watch Sam and Dean," John said, still smiling. Bobby raised his bottle, and John met it with his own.

"Cheers."

* * *

><p><em>AN: Hello, my name is Tazia, and I will be your author for this fic. *waves* Just to get a couple things straight; This is more of a collection of oneshots than anything, so don't be expecting a coherent plot or anything fancy. Secondly, I am screwing around with the ages and age-gaps to put all the kids closer together, so just a little fore-warning there. Lastly, no, I don't technically have permission for the cover art, but it's drawn by eviltt, who I found on Deviant Art... Also, I love reviews, I write because I love it but I publish online because I want reviews, so review, every chapter, twice, once, please please please please, and you know that I will love you._


	2. New Arrivals

**Chapter 2: New Arrivals**

After it had happened once, there was no stopping it.

Bobby got a total of two months' respite before he got the phone call from John. Vampire nest in New York, a group of them was going in, could Bobby pretend to be their FBI superior on the phone and take care of the kids?

A year passed like that, and then he got the call from Ellen, saying that she'd heard that Dean and Sam were staying with him, could her 5-year-old daughter please stay with him for a while as well?

Then the scrawny boy who showed up at his door with a backpack on one shoulder, and said "I'm supposed to stay here for a week." And then, almost as an afterthought, "I'm Garth. Hi."

So it went on, and by the time that it was Jo, Ash, Garth, Dean, and Sam, Bobby stopped complaining and started charging. The auto yard was turned into a kid's paradise, full of interesting junk and things they probably shouldn't be playing with. Bobby let them paint a wooden sign and hung it over the door, which proudly proclaimed that it was now 'Bobby Singer's Daycare'.

It was actually more like a boarding school, but he didn't really feel like explaining that to all the kids, so it didn't matter. If they said it was a daycare, that was what it was.

Bobby's days were once filled with weapon cleaning, drinking, and going through old picture albums while drunk enough to pretend that it didn't hurt. Now, they were filled with running after maniacal four-year-olds, teaching six-year-olds how to load shotguns with salt rounds, and trying to focus on making dinner while five kids trashed the furniture in the living room.

There was no room for routine in the chaos that was child-care, but Bobby did his best. The breakfast bell rang at 8, and someone would always have to be sent to drag Dean downstairs, and there was classes until lunch, and then free time until dinner, and then reading a book until 7:30, at which point the younger kids were sent to bed, and the older ones got to stay up and watch TV.

And some days, that routine was completely interrupted.

Ooooo000ooooO

"_Bobby_, Dean said 'bitch' again!"

"No, I didn't! He's lying!"

"Dean, you did too."

"Shut up, Sam!"

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

"He did it again, he did it again!"

"_Bobby_, make Garth stop singing, it's soooo annoying."

"Bobby, Bobby, look at what I found!"

This was a normal day, and Bobby traversed the kid-filled living room easily, stopping to briefly scold Dean (with a parting wink, of course), going over to Garth and asking him to please go outside if he wanted to sing, because Bobby had a headache, and then crouching down to look at the tiny frog that Jo was holding in her cupped hands, car grease staining her cheeks and shirt.

That was when someone knocked on the door.

"I'm going to get that," Bobby told them. "Dean's in charge." Most of the kids listened to Dean, in the same way they would follow the orders of a drill sergeant. Bobby often took advantage of this fact when he was busy.

He left the still-shouting group of kids behind him, hoping that nothing would get broken while he was gone (the sound of something crashing against the wall made him doubtful). He opened the door.

"Bobby Singer?"

Well, you didn't hear many accents like _that_ around here often.

"Yes. What?" Bobby asked gruffly, focused on trying to hear whether anyone in the living room was crying yet.

"I've been told that you specialize in child care for the supernaturally inclined."

"That's one way to put it." Bobby finally directed his full attention towards the man in the black suit, and immediately noticed the three girls attached to him, one holding either hand, and one happily sitting on his shoulders.

"Good. I am done with these insufferable brats, and I'm giving them to you." The man extracted his hands from their grasp, with some difficulty, lifted the other girl off his shoulders, and then pushed them all up the steps towards Bobby. "Good luck. I'll be back in a few days to check on them." A slight pause. "Maybe." And before Bobby could even open his mouth to say something about his fees… "Ta, darling."

Bobby stared at the spot where the well-dressed man had been standing, only a second earlier. He stared for a little longer, and then decided that he just didn't want to know. He looked down at the three girls, who were looking around curiously.

"Who are you, then?"

"Meg," the one in a purple T-shirt said distractedly, peeking around his legs to look down the hall.

"Ruby," said the one in the jacket, and resumed whatever she was doing with her nails.

"Abaddon," the last one said, and looked up at him with a bright smile.

Bobby thought he might be getting in over his head.

Ooooo000ooooO

"ASH STOLE MY PHONE AGAIN!"

"Meg brought another dog in, and it just peed on the carpet, maybe you should clean it up?"

"The DVD player is broken!"

"OW! ABADDON JUST BIT ME!"

"RUBY SET MY DOG ON FIRE AGAIN!"

"Get off me! Ouch! Stop!"

"Bitch! Bitch! Bitch!"

"Hey, stop swearing!"

"WHO'S A BITCH?"

"HELP, BOBBY!"

Oh, yeah, life was fantastic.

So Bobby dumped a bucket of water on the dog, extinguishing the fire, and confiscated Ruby's lighter (God only knew where she kept finding them all). He gave Abaddon a long lecture on biting that she smiled and nodded her way through, making it clear that she wasn't listening at all. He poured stain remover onto the couch, and gave Meg her hundredth reminder that there was a 'no animals in the house' rule. He got Jo's phone back from Ash, knowing the young boy had probably already tampered with it, but unable to care at this point. He was just glad that Sam and Dean weren't here this weekend; then he would _really_ be in a mess.

He was just heading back from the kitchen with a wad of paper towels in his hand, when he heard the all of the kids shout in the living room, then go silent. Knowing such a unified sound could only mean something majorly Not Good, he broke into a run.

Standing at the far side of the living room was a man, wearing a white suit. His hair was blond, and long enough to form perfect ringlets around his face, which was the sort of beautiful that you either want to stare at or punch repeatedly. Huddled behind him in the hallway were four kids.

"Ever heard of knocking?" Bobby asked, and stepped out in front of the kids he was in charge of.

"You are Robert Singer?" the stranger asked, completely disregarding Bobby's question.

"That's me."

"My younger siblings have need for a temporary home. I have heard that your home may be suitable. Were my sources incorrect?" The blond man tilted his head slightly to one side.

"Probably not. Are your kids going to be setting any fires, bringing home strange animals, climbing on the roof, or trying to kill the other kids?" (Since Meg, Ruby, and Abaddon had arrived, Bobby had added some clauses to his 'if you pay, you stay' hospitality.)

"I would hope not," the man replied, and turned to give his siblings a narrow look before facing him again with a beatific smile that definitely crossed the line into 'I really want to punch that face' territory. "I assure you, Robert Singer, they will behave like angels." He said it with an irony that made Bobby very nervous.

"Well, my rates are pretty steep for four kids. A man's gotta get by, right?"

"I assure you, money will not be a problem."

"How long are they staying?" Bobby asked, resigning himself to doing business with this strange and extremely annoying man.

"I will be back in two weeks to check on their adjustment to life on-" the sentence paused for a moment before continuing on a different track. "In your care."

"Two hundred, per kid, per week. Less than you'd pay for a motel and road food. And cash only." Most of his clients were Hunters, after all... Bobby certainly wasn't taking a credit card. The ethereal man drew several bills out of some unknown pocket in his suit jacket, and handed them over.

"That should be sufficient," he said. From what Bobby saw of the bills, they were more than 'sufficient', but he didn't comment, tucking them into his back pocket instead.

"And if I need to contact you?"

"My siblings will have to do it themselves. They are capable of calling me, if need be, but I hope that it will not be necessary." This time the warning look was to Bobby, and the older Hunter saw a spark there, in those steel-grey eyes, and it made him afraid in a way he couldn't quite put a finger on.

"Money, good, contact, good," Bobby said to cover the sudden silence. "How about some introductions for you and the kids?"

"My name is Michael," the stranger said, and inclined his head. He stepped to one side, and gestured the children out from behind him. "This is my sister, Anna." She was a red-haired girl who nodded to him quietly and then looked away as quickly as she could. "My brother, Luke." This boy had dark blond hair and blue eyes. When Michael tried to usher him forwards to meet Bobby, he batted his older brother's hand away.

"No!" he shouted. "I don't want to. And my _name_ isn't Luke!"

"Fine," Michael sighed, and then crouched down to face his little brother. "Lucifer, we've been through this. You need to behave, or there will be consequences."

"I don't care." The young boy crossed his arms and shook his head. His older brother stood up again, and this time his tone was less patient and less brotherly.

"Shall I take you back to Father, then?"

"No," Lucifer mumbled, shrinking back.

"Well, then. Say hello to Robert Singer."

"It's just… Bobby," he put in.

"Hi, Bobby," the boy with the unfortunate name said, staring at his feet.

"And this is Gabriel," Michael continued. Gabriel was a tiny boy who bounced forwards to grin at Bobby around the sucker he had in his mouth, and waved enthusiastically. "And Castiel," Michael finished, stepping aside to reveal the final boy.

He was wearing a trench coat that was far too big on him, and he had wide blue eyes. He blinked at Bobby, and then ducked his head, clearly shy.

_He's going to get trampled_, Bobby thought unhappily, but he forced a smile.

"Alright," he said. "Four kids, two weeks, sounds like a plan. I'll see you around, Michael."

"You will," the man said, and showed himself the door. Well, at least he was more considerate than the man who brought Meg, Abaddon, and Ruby, who kept disappearing without giving a name or any way to contact him. The payment always showed up in the back pocket of Bobby's jeans, though, so there was no real problems.

Bobby was now surrounded by ten kids, all staring at each other awkwardly, and Dean and Sam were due to arrive in three days, on the same day that Ash was leaving. _This is going to be a busy week._

* * *

><p><em>AN: Well, that's all for today, but the next couple chapters are already written, so if people review, you know, I could probably get them up pretty quickly... *hint hint* *nudge nudge*_


	3. The Leader Returns

**Chapter 3: The Leader Returns**

"I wish I could just come with you," Dean muttered, fiddling with his seatbelt.

"Dean, I told you, you have to go with your brother and make sure he's safe."

"I know that," Dean said. "But… you have to be safe too, okay?" Dean looked up at his father's profile in the front seat.

"I will be. Don't worry about me." And that didn't help at all, because of course Dean worried, all the time. _He_ knew what dad was really doing out there, the things he was hunting. Sammy didn't worry, Sammy didn't know. Sam just thought that every kid grew up with intimate knowledge of hand-to-hand and various weaponry, hearing bedtime stories about vampires, demons, and wendigos. He was only four, after all, and he didn't know a lot of things.

It was almost noon when John pulled the Impala up to Bobby's front stairs. The sun was too bright overhead, and the windows were rolled down to try and take advantage of the wind blowing across South Dakota, not quite strong enough to dismiss the heat that made everything seem slow and lethargic.

"Alright," John said. "Grab your bags from the trunk, and I'll see you in a week."

"Aren't you coming in?" Sam asked, leaning forwards to meet his father's eyes in the rear-view mirror.

"I gotta get going. But you have fun, okay?" Sam's lips pressed together, eyebrows folding down, into an expression that Dean was starting to become very familiar with.

"Okay," Dean answered, knowing that unless he intervened, Sam would ask more questions, and John wouldn't give him a straight answer, and Sam would get frustrated, and then everyone would leave unhappy, and Dean hated when that happened, hated it with a passion. "Come on, Sammy."

So the two boys tumbled out of the back seat and then paused with their hands on the door handles. "One," Sam said, looking over at Dean.

"Two," his brother answered.

"Three!" They said together, and swung the doors shut. They slammed just slightly out of unison, and Sam looked at Dean with unhappy eyes.

"One day, we'll get it," Dean promised, and they made their way around to the trunk to pull out their suitcases. They stood by the steps and waved as John pulled away, disappearing down the road in a cloud of dust.

"Ready to see them?" Dean asked. Sam nodded and tightened his grip on his suitcase. He was always a bit overwhelmed by the other kids, especially since Meg, Ruby, and Abaddon had arrived. He was usually found in a corner, nose in a book, while Dean organized elaborate adventures and games.

They opened the door, stepped into the hallway, and the noise swept over them like a wave, the frantic energy of chaos chasing away the heat's lethargy.

"Gabriel, get back here and apologize!"

"Lucifer, what in Father's name are you doing? Get down from there!"

"BOBBY, RUBY SET THE DESK ON FIRE!"

"Come on, you're with me on the fire! We've got this!"

"Hey, what do I do?"

"I dunno, try to get Lucifer down from the bookshelf?"

"WHY AREN'T YOU HELPING? WHAT IF THE HOUSE BURNS DOWN?"

Sam and Dean exchanged looks, and then dropped their suitcases and ran down the hall to the chaos that was the living room and kitchen.

Bobby was in the middle of the space, hand on forehead, apparently fighting off a headache. The desk was, indeed, going up in flames, and Ruby was leaning against the wall to one side of it, a lighter in one hand. Abaddon was lying on the couch, apparently unworried about the noise. Garth was flapping at the flames with a dishcloth, only making it worse, and occasionally hitting himself in the face by accident. Jo, much quicker to move, was running from the kitchen with a glass of water. On top of one of the bookshelves, a young boy was laughing, arms spread wide as though he was offering a hug to the entire world. A red-haired girl was yelling at him from the floor, stamping her foot in anger. A boy with long gold-brown hair was on the stairs, trying to hide behind the baluster, a huge sucker in one hand. Off in the corner, a boy in a too-large trench coat was fending off Meg, who was trying to shove what looked like a squirrel into his face.

"Hey, Bobby!" Dean shouted over the noise. "Want some help?"

"Please," the man shouted back, sounding exhausted.

"Alright, troops, listen up!" Dean shouted. All eyes turned to him, and he took a second to survey the room. "Jo, put that fire out." She had been frozen, glass in hand, waiting for his orders, and she poured it over the fire, grinning in self-congratulation when it sputtered and went out. "Awesome. Meg, no means no. Leave him alone, and get that squirrel out of here before it has babies and we have to evacuate again." The girl sulkily went to the back door and released the poor animal, who was probably traumatized for life. "You, on the bookshelf, do you think that you could make the jump to the back of the couch?" Lucifer nodded eagerly. Dean put on a show of skepticism. "Let's see it, then."

The boy leapt off the top shelf, and as expected, fell short. But instead of reaching the floor, as expected, he pushed his brows together in concentration and bounced back up again to land on the back of the couch, looking down at Abaddon.

There was a long silence.

"Woah," Jo said. "That was cool."

"Lucifer, can I talk to you for a second?" The red-haired girl grabbed his arm and dragged him out into the hallway, looking furious.

"Thanks," Dean said, with a grin at everyone in the room. "Hi, Bobby," he added. Bobby made his way over and picked Dean up into a tight hug that smelled like grease and tobacco and stale fabric, like home. Dean tolerated around five seconds of hugging before he started squirming, and Bobby put him down and picked up Sam, who happily hugged him back.

"Welcome home. As you can see, there have been some additions to the family." Dean and Sam looked around the room, nodding. There was only two of the new people left in the room, and they were both at the corners of the room, watching the three of them interact. "Well, you're going to have to come over here," Bobby said to them, and gestured them over.

"I'm Dean," he said with a wide grin as they came closer. "This is my little brother, Sammy."

"My name's Gabriel," the little one with a sucker the size of his head replied, smiling back. "This s'my big brother, Castiel."

"A pleasure to meet you," Castiel muttered, barely audible.

"You too," Dean said, and held out a hand like he'd seen his father do a hundred times. The blue-eyed boy stared at it for a second, and then slowly held out his own. Dean took it and shook it once. "So, how old are you?" he asked.

"Um…" the other boy had to take a second to consider that. "I have been on Earth for eight years." Dean shot a look at Bobby, who shrugged as if to say '_he's always like this._'

"Cool! I'm eight years old too!"

"I'm four," Gabriel put in, obviously unhappy to have the spotlight off of him.

"So'm I!" Sam said excitedly.

"Well, then, you can have a sucker," Gabriel said, and pulled one out of his sleeve, rather implausibly.

"Can I really?" Sam asked.

"Yep," Gabriel answered, popping the 'p' and looking pleased with himself. Sam's eyes darted from the rainbow-colored treat to Dean for a second, who hesitated, then nodded his blessing.

"Wow." His voice was awe-filled as he reached out to take the huge candy.

"Dean!" Garth crashed into the other boy, taking them both to the floor, where Garth hit his head on the floor. "Ow," he complained, and then happily hugged Dean anyways. "Welcome back!"

"Nice to see you too," Dean gasped, winded from the fall. Once they got themselves sorted out and back on their feet, Dean happened to look over to find blue eyes still following his movements. "Hasn't anyone told you that staring's rude?" he asked, somewhat indignant, but mostly curious.

"…No," the other boy answered. "I find it entertaining to watch you."

"Ew," Dean promptly responded. "That's creepy."

"I have no intention of creeping anywhere, I assure you," Castiel said, the large words strange coming out of the tiny mouth.

Dean looked at him for several long seconds, and blue eyes looked right back.

"I don't know if I like you," Dean announced, after a pause.

"I think I might like you," Castiel replied, and both of them smiled at each other tentatively.

"Hey, do you wanna see something really cool?" Dean asked.

"I'm not certain whether the temperature of something should determine its worth in being seen, but-"

"I meant awesome," Dean interrupted.

"…Oh. Yes, I would." And when Dean crooked a finger and ran for the stairs, Castiel followed.

"Well, I'll be darned," said Bobby, watching them run up the stairs together.

"You and me are going to be _besties_," Gabriel announced to Sam, throwing an arm around the other boy's shoulders. "Let's go play."

Ooooo0000ooooO

When the dinner bell was rung, both Gabriel and Lucifer rushed to get seats on either side of Sam, talking over each other in an attempt to get the other boy's attention. He looked a little bit overwhelmed, but happy, responding to each of them in turn. Bobby kept an eye on him, knowing that too many people often made Sam run to hide his head in a book. But he looked fine.

Jo and Abaddon were having a surprisingly civil conversation about horse-riding. Meg looked bored (but then again, she usually did), and Ruby was folding and refolding her napkin into different patterns. Anna was politely listening to Garth babbling on about something, hands folded in her lap. But Dean and Castiel were nowhere to be seen.

Bobby tried ringing the bell again, unbelieving of what he was seeing. The only meal that he had _ever_ seen Dean miss was breakfast, and after that he was bugging Bobby all the time for more things to eat; understandable, since he was a young boy reaching endless growth spurts. And _Castiel_ to miss a meal? He showed up ten minutes early and helped to set the table, he didn't just ignore the bell, which could be clearly heard throughout the whole house and half the car yard.

"Where the hell are they?" Bobby said out loud.

"I know," Sam volunteered, looking up from where he was being pestered by the two brothers. "They're probably on the roof. Dean likes to show off up there."

"Damnit," Bobby sighed. "Okay, who wants to go get them?" Immediately, Meg, Ruby, and Abbadon all raised their hands in a slightly creepy synchronization. "…No," Bobby decided. "I'll go myself. Nobody touch the dinner, and…" he belatedly realized there was no one really to leave in charge. "Jo and Sam, you're in charge of making sure nothing gets broken."

He left for the stairs, muttering "good luck" under his breath.

Sure enough, Dean and Castiel were up on the roof, chattering away. Dean was lying down so that his head was perilously close to the edge, and Castiel was sitting the opposite way, with one hand around Dean's wrist to assure himself that the other boy wasn't falling.

"-and then Batman kind of swoops in, right, 'cause he can sort of fly, but not really, and he punches the Joker in the face, and then they fight, and-"

"Alright, you idjits. There are eight unsupervised kids down there right now, because you missed the dinner bell. I am _not_ your damn mother, you are _not _supposed to be on the roof, and I thought you had fallen off and broken your necks or something! Do you want me to have a heart attack?"

Dean shifted so that he was sitting up, Bobby clenching his jaw until he was certain that the boy was stable again. He glanced at Castiel, who was looking at him with absolute horror on his young face.

"Of course I don't want you to have a… a heart attack! Are you alright? Are you healthy? Are you going to…" and here his voice trailed off, unable to say the next word.

"Figure of speech, Cas," Dean said, looking sideways at him with exasperation.

"…oh," Castiel said.

"The _point_ is," Bobby put in, "that you're late for dinner and the longer I'm away, the more likely that something gets broken, so get on your feet and get your asses downstairs so that we can save my dishes."

Obediently, both of them cautiously got to their feet, mindful of the loose shingles (Bobby really needed to get his roof re-done), and headed downstairs behind Bobby.

Rather surprisingly, Jo and Sam had managed to keep it relatively calm, and the only problem was that Garth had tried to help with carrying plates and had somehow hit himself in the head with one and was currently holding an ice packet to what looked like it was going to be an impressive lump on his forehead. The plate was undamaged.

Dean and Castiel took their places beside each other at the dinner table.

Ooooo000oooO

Garth managed to spill his juice all the way across the table and onto Abaddon's blue dress, who took it shockingly well and went to get changed into jeans and a T-shirt.

Jo was apparently in the middle of a growth spurt, and ate no less than three servings.

Meg maintained that she wasn't hungry, and only ate a little bit of food after Bobby threatened to withhold dessert, which was blueberry pie, unless she had some greens.

Ruby got into a fight with Gabriel about who got to sit next to Sam for dessert.

Lucifer, meanwhile, had secured his spot by offering Sam half his slice of pie once he got it.

Dean stole several pieces of Castiel's chicken, and the other boy agreed to help him finish his broccoli.

In one sense, it wasn't anything special, but in another way, it felt like home.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Hey! So, here we go, first meeting with all the characters. Well, except for Ash. And Crowley. And a couple other characters that'll pop up later. But, you know, that's all the main characters. _

_I got reviews, which made me happy, and so I'm posting this sooner than I probably would have otherwise. Reviews always make me post sooner. (I don't even have to nudge you here, I know you know that's your cue.)_

_Just to get a question answered before it's asked; Lucifer, Castiel, Anna, and Gabriel are indeed angels and they do have their powers, but to an extent that would be suitable for a kid, so that they don't end up accidentally smiting someone if they're having a tantrum. And Ruby, Abaddon, and Meg are all demons, and the same deal goes for them._

_Ah, right, lastly, someone asked for an age list. I actually totally lost the sheet of paper where I'd written down their respective ages, but I'll just wing it. _

_The oldest are the eight-year-olds. _

_Castiel, Dean, Anna, and Abaddon are all eight. _

_Garth and Meg are seven. _

_Ash is six. _

_Jo, Lucifer, and Ruby are all five. _

_Sam and Gabriel are the youngest, at age four. _


	4. Camping Trip

**Chapter 4: Camping Trip**

It was unexpectedly quiet in Bobby's house. All the kids were occupied around the living room. Abaddon, Jo, and Anna had teamed up to make a big painting of horses, Castiel was quietly writing something in the corner, and Sam was reading out loud to Meg, Gabriel, and Lucifer. Garth was sleeping at the bottom of the stairs, and Ruby was putting Sam's hair into braids while he read.

And Dean? Dean was _bored_. Bobby had quarantined them to the living room so that he could go and get a book from a nearby town, where people didn't yet know that he was a convenient nearby babysitter, so the kids were saying at home, because as he put it, "I don't need any more damn kids dumped on me anyways." Dean and Sam were supposed to be in charge, which went splendidly when there were people to keep in line, but everyone was quiet, no one was paying attention to him, and

"I'm bored," he announced out loud. Sam and Jo immediately turned to him, the veterans of quieter days in the daycare, and the only ones experienced in what could happen after those two words from the usually obedient boy. The rest of the kids picked up on the tension, and soon everyone was looking at Dean, except for Garth, who was snoring loudly. Dean popped into a sitting position from where he had been lying on the couch, and looked around at the others.

"Dean, you know that Bobby said we have to-"

"I know what Bobby said," Dean interrupted, the calculating look on his young face unchanging. "But I have a cool idea."

"Great," Sam mumbled, slouching slightly.

"Does everyone here have camping experience?" Sam and Jo looked at each other, and the rest of the kids looked confused. "No way," Dean said, leaning forwards and looking from one face to the next. "Meg?" She shook her head. "Cas?" Another shake of the head. "_No one_ aside from me and Sam and Jo?" Blank stares. "Alright, that settles it, we're going camping."

"Yesss," Jo said quietly, putting down her paintbrush.

"Listen up!" And now Dean was standing on the couch, back where he belonged, voice rising with orders. Garth woke up, managed to bang his head on the wall, blinked up at Dean, and then scrambled to his feet to listen attentively. "Sam, Jo, you guys go grab the tents, I know that there's a bunch in the basement. Abaddon, Meg, you guys go with them and carry up sleeping bags. Gabriel, Lucifer, you're on candy duty, we need graham crackers, chocolate, and marshmallows. I don't know _where_ you get your stuff from, but I'm counting on you. Ruby, get a couple boxes of matches from wherever you stash them, and everyone should get a pair of pajamas. This is going to be _fun_." He jumped down from the couch. "Everyone else, come with me, we're gonna get the backpacks." A pause. "Alright, go!" And the kids scattered. An easy grin made it onto Dean's face, and he set off for the stairs with Cas, Anna, and Garth following him, all looking faintly confused but determined.

It was about fifteen minutes until they were back in the living room, with piles of bags and clothes all around. Dean eyed the mess and started instructing, and it was another half hour until the simple bags were packed and the kids were pulling them on, some of them complaining about the weight and others trying jumping jacks, testing the bounce of their packs against their backs.

"But what about Bobby?" Anna asked. "He's going to be upset if we leave."

"It's gonna be FUN!" Lucifer shouted, one of the ones who was running around and bouncing off the furniture. Dean was pretty sure that he and Gabriel had 'sampled' some of the sweets they had miraculously scrounged up, since neither of them could stand still.

"I'll leave him a note," Dean shrugged. "He'll be fine, we've done this before when it was just Garth, Ash, Jo, and us," he gestured to Sam. All of them were nodding, although Sam looked distinctly uncomfortable with the entire thing, reliving some of their worse camping experiences.

Dean went over to the art corner, found a black marker and a large sheet of paper.

'Dear Bobby,' he wrote. 'We have gone camping and will be OK. Don't worry.' Then he signed his name underneath in big capital letters. "Everyone else has to sign it too." The marker got passed around, and although many of the kids ended up with black smears across hands and face, everyone signed, and Dean used some tape to put it up on the wall, to greet Bobby when he got back.

"Okay, so everyone's got their flashlight, right?" Several beams of light hit Dean's eyes as an answer, and he threw up an arm. "_Not_ cool, people!"

"Sorry," several sheepish voiced answered, and the lights flicked off again.

"Right, so, everyone has their flashlights. We have around an hour before it gets dark, so we're going to go through the car yard and into the forest, then we'll find a nice flat area and set up. Then we can make a fire and roast some s'mores and tell ghost stories and have an awesome time, okay? Just don't wander off from the group; Bobby would kill all of us if someone got lost." Heads nodding in agreement. "Good. Let's get going."

And they headed out the screen door with Dean at the head of the group like the Pied Piper.

Oooooo0000oooooO

Several hours later, Bobby returned, book under his arm, and walked up to the front door. It was dark outside, but the kids probably wouldn't have gone to bed without him being back… And yet the house was silent. That was a bad sign. He pushed open the door and walked inside, looking around warily in case they were waiting with buckets of ice water at the ready. He wouldn't put it past them at all. But there was no ambush, no hushed giggles from the darkened doorways along the hall…

He reached the living room and stared around, at the abandoned books and the occasional article of unnecessary camping gear that had been accidentally dragged up with the tents. And taped to the wall was a large piece of paper, with the words 'Dear Bobby, we have gone camping and will be OK. Don't worry' written on it in a large childish scrawl. It was signed by each and every one of the kids.

"Balls," Bobby said, and threw open the back door. "You kids get back here right now or I'm calling your parents!" The words echoed back at him from the rusty cars, and there was no response. _Too far away too hear me_, Bobby thought grimly.

So he reluctantly reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. John was on a hunt and probably wouldn't come. Ellen would worry incessantly and wouldn't be able to get there in good time anyways. He didn't even _know_ who Garth's parents were. Michael was unreachable. That left one person to try.

After Abaddon, Ruby, and Meg had been dropped off, Bobby had been furious about having three extra kids and no payment, but ended up finding more than enough money in the back pocket of his jeans, which he was pretty sure wasn't there before. Over the next three times they were unceremoniously shoved at him, Bobby came to expect it to show up there, and simply accepted that. The fifth time, he also found a new contact in his phone, simply 'The King of Hell' with a picture of the man who always dropped off the girls.

Bobby assumed it was a joke, but then again, with all the disappearing that the man did, and the trouble his 'charges' got into, he really wouldn't be surprised. That probably said something about his life.

It was this name that he was clicking on now, bringing the phone up to his ear.

"We have a problem," he said, as soon as the phone was picked up mid-ring.

Ooooo0000ooooO

Said problem was currently grouped around a merrily burning campfire, grinning and laughing. The tents had taken a lot of team effort, but they had eventually gotten set up, and while a couple of them seemed to be bending in all the wrong directions, at least they weren't falling down. Only two people had tripped over the tent strings, and overall, things were going great. The s'mores were roasting over the fire, and they were switching from ghost stories and 'jokes they aren't supposed to know' to combat the fear, and with all the kids pitching in, there was no possibility of running out of either any time soon.

"-and that's when they heard her screaming. They ran to the door, but it was locked. They pounded on it, but she just kept screaming, these awful sounds, and then they stopped and the door finally slammed open and they could see her lying face-down on the floor in a pool of blood. They ran to her, turned her around…" Abaddon paused for dramatic effect, obviously enjoying this far too much. All the other kids leaned forwards, horrified but fascinated. "And that's when they saw that her eyes had been scratched out. She was still breathing, and most of the girls ran away, but her older sister, the one who had dared her to try it, couldn't move. Her little sister turned her head, as if she could still see, as if she was looking at her. 'I saw her,' she whispered. 'I saw Bloody Mary.' And then she died." Abaddon folded her arms, looking serious, and all of the kids shivered, looking out at the shadows of the forest.

"But what then?" Gabriel piped up, who was sitting across the fire with his hands covered in marshmallow goop, and a smear of chocolate across one cheek. "What happened to the others?"

"_I_ don't know," Abaddon answered, a frown appearing on her face. "It's a horror story. They probably all die too."

"Really?" Castiel looked horrified.

"It's just a story, Cas," said Dean.

"All stories have a basis in truth," Anna said, as if she was reciting from a book.

"True," said Ruby, and threw a curled-up ball of paper into the fire, watching it flare up.

"Castiel!" Lucifer called from across the fire, and his brother squinted into the flames, trying to make out where he was.

"Yes?"

"You tell one!"

Now everyone turned to Castiel in anticipation, and he visibly squirmed under their combined attention. Dean nudged him gently with one shoulder, and he looked over to meet Dean's green eyes. "Come on, Cas, what's the scariest story you know?" After a moment of consideration, still looking at Dean, Cas straightened up and looked around at everyone, seeming to have come to an idea.

"Okay. Okay, so once upon a time, there was a man named Adolf Hitler-"

"Well, I think that's enough of _that,"_ came a voice from outside the circle, and several of the kids screamed. All of them twisted around to peer into the shadows, hands curling into the fists that Bobby had taught them, and Dean dove for his backpack and the stolen gun he had stashed inside, but the man stepped into the light before things could progress any further.

"Hello, girls," he said, smiling at where Abbadon, Meg, and Rub were now sitting with crossed arms, glowering at him. "Miss me?"

"No," Abaddon answered for all of them. "We actually don't really like you."

"Shame." He didn't seem too put-out. "Well, your babysitter is near-frantic. You're lucky he hasn't had a heart attack." The kids looked at each other uncertainly.

"Me and Sammy have done this before," Dean piped up, still crouching near his backpack with suspicious eyes. "Bobby trusts us."

"From what I hear, last time it was a much smaller group. Frankly, I'm surprised my charges haven't burned down the entire forest, and you with it." His eyes were almost challenging.

"It's under control," Dean said, his full child's lips pressing together to form the words clearly, trying to make himself sound more adult. "Who are you anyways? Did Bobby send you?"

"The name is Crowley," he answered. "And I happen to be the current guardian of those little demons over there." He waved a careless hand towards the girls, and Abaddon bared her teeth at him.

"Oh!" Sam said, as he slid a s'more off the stick he was holding. "You're that British guy Bobby's always complaining about!" He stuffed the whole thing into his mouth, looking proud of himself.

"I guess I am." Crowley looked intrigued. "Well, I certainly don't want to have to marshal the break-up of this little campfire circle, so I'm going back to get Robert Singer. Once he has lectured all of you, I will be content with your misery and will leave again. And if you find something nasty in your beds over the next week, just remember that it is _your_ fault that I am out here ruining a lovely pair of shoes in the blood _forest_ instead of enjoying a perfectly nice evening off!" The volume rose until he was shouting, the accent heavier, his anger making all the kids flinch away. His eyes flickered around the circle, seeing their new uncertainty. "Good. I'll be back." And he disappeared, making everyone flinch again.

"How did he do that?" Sam asked curiously, turning to the three girls he had indicated as his charges.

Meg and Ruby shrugged, but Abaddon tilted her head to the side for a second, brought up her fingers, and snapped them once. Suddenly, she was wedged in between Gabriel and Sam, half on each of their laps.

"Woah!" Sam's mouth fell open in surprise.

"Stop showing off, Abaddon," Ruby called across, annoyed. She got to her feet, came around the fire, and yanked her off of Sam. "You're going to get us into trouble."

"Ow! Stop!" Abaddon looked furious.

"Ruby! Let her go," Bobby instructed, walking into the firelight. "Abaddon, you sit your behind down where you're supposed to be, and not on other people. Dean, come here right now." The steely tone of his voice had all of their eyes widening in surprise; Bobby was endlessly patient and rarely angry, not like this. Dean got to his feet and reluctantly made his way over to Bobby.

"Now you listen close, boy, 'cause I ain't saying this twice. I come home again and you're gone, I'm calling your father." His voice was low and unyielding. "I know that this was your idea because you and your brother are the damn ringleaders, and Sam actually _listens_ to the rules. I have no problems with you kids having a camping night, but you can't just run off like that. There's dangerous things out here, you of all people should know that. I can't call the police to find you because I'm not legally taking care of you. You're not answering when I call you, I'm on the verge of a panic attack because you idjits don't think _twice_ about taking off with nothing more than a stupid note for me to find. You're all just lucky that Crowley was willing to help, because otherwise it would have taken me hours to find you, and I would have been just about ready to send you right home to your parents, whether they're hunting or not, you got me? You ain't safe out here by yourselves."

"Yeah, Bobby," Dean muttered, looking down ay his feet. "I'm sorry." The laughter and unity of minutes ago had faded, and the other kids were trying not to look at the scene in front of them, embarrassed on behalf of their friend and ringleader.

"Good. So this isn't gonna happen again?" Bobby's voice rose, and now he was looking out at everyone else. The kids shook their heads. "Fine. In that case, you'd all better clear out one of the tents, because I ain't leaving you out here." He swung a backpack off his shoulder and came further into the light.

"We don't have to go back?" Castiel asked hopefully.

"We're out here anyways," Bobby said. "We can go back in the morning." A smile spread through the group, and the glow of happiness was fast to return.

"You're letting them off too easily," said a voice, and Crowley stepped up to Bobby's side. "You should give them at least ten lashes each."

"They're just kids," Bobby said, disregarding the second statement entirely.

"Hardly," Crowley said, his eyes tracing over the faces around the campfire. "They're more than that." Bobby had an idea of what he meant, but chose to ignore it.

"They're kids in all the ways that matter, and they deserve to have fun."

"They deserve to have fun…" Crowley repeated, as if he was testing the words. "Fine." He walked to the circle. "Move over." Castiel's eyes widened and he frantically scooched over to clear a space.

"What are you doing?" Bobby asked, with a weary resignation that meant he already knew the answer.

"_I_ deserve to have fun after a perfectly nice evening was ruined by these brats. I'm staying for the fun." Crowley snatched a perfectly-cooked s'more away from Meg, and popped into his mouth. "Entertain me." Bobby sighed and moved to sit down across the fire.

"Looks like we have another guest for a while. Everyone, this is Crowley. Be nice to him."

"We've already met," Crowley said.

"Can you teach me to disappear like that?" Castiel asked, looking up at him with wide blue eyes.

Crowley looked him up and down for a second. "I think you'd need to ask one of your older brothers to teach you, but maybe I could."

"Wow," Castiel said. "How old are you?"

Crowley counted on his fingers for a few seconds. "Three-hundred and nineteen years old," he answered.

"That's ridiculous," Sam said from across the fire. "No one lives that long."

"No, they don't, do they?" Crowley responded, and there was a confused silence.

"Let's go back to the scary stories," Abaddon said, drawing the attention back away from Crowley. "Castiel, we want to hear about Adolf Hitler."

"No, no, you don't," Bobby put in. "You really don't want to hear that one."

"Yeah we do!" Gabriel piped up. "I know that one, it's really really scary!"

"How about a story about the La Llorona?" Bobby said. "The Weeping Woman, or the Woman in White. Have you heard that one?"

"I know it! My dad told me all about it," Dean said excitedly, but the rest of them shook their heads.

"You tell it, then," Bobby said, and Dean took a moment to organize his thoughts before beginning.

"So once there was this beautiful woman named Maria…"

The group fell into a hushed silence, the only sound being Dean's voice, the popping of the fire, and the rustle of wrappers as people passed around various ingredients to prepare more s'mores. Crowley watched the fire at the center burn, watched how the flames cast shadows across they children's faces, and thought about Hell. Then he took the bar of chocolate that Castiel was shyly offering to him, and figured that Hell could wait a few hours.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Well, I can't claim to like this chapter very much, but I was home sick this weekend with a really nasty stomach bug, and needed some fluff to cheer myself up. So I wrote this and I'm inflicting it on you. It's without a Beta, so if anyone sees something that annoys them, please do point it out in your comments! _

_And, as always, I love love love reviews so please feed the author, in spirit if not in food (although I wouldn't object to that second one). _

_-Tazia_


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